


Legacy

by MsEllieJane



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brienne inexplicably becomes a Girl Scout leader, Everything else is pretty much the same, F/M, Mentions of miscarriage, Mild Angst, POV Brienne of Tarth, Panic Attacks, Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-Season/Series 08, awkward work environment, jaime is alive
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:13:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22975957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsEllieJane/pseuds/MsEllieJane
Summary: Amidst the rebuilding of Kings Landing, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard contemplates a troubling prophecy while trying her best to avoid the new Master-at-arms, Jaime Lannister. An unexpected assignment to train young women to be knights forces them both to work together and confront the past.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 47
Kudos: 115





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all the Oathkeepers for the inspiration and encouragement!

Brienne solemnly repeated the words spoken to her, feeling half in a dream. She had memorized these words as a child while swooning over stories of brave knights, never imagining she would one day say them to her king. Many eyes were on her, but for once in her life she did not want to shrink under their gazes. Despite the pride that shone through her, she couldn’t stop the blush from creeping across her face as she anticipated the next vow. _Take no wife, father no child._

Except the line didn’t come. 

She wanted to look up in confusion when she noticed the omission, but kept her gaze steadfast. It was hardly the time to point out the error, kneeling before her king and surrounded by onlookers. She continued with the vows, repeating the right words, pledging herself to guard the king’s life with her own. When told to rise, she slowly pulled herself to her feet, her knees still aching from the vigil she stood the night before.

Cheers rose up from the small crowd when her new title was announced, but she barely heard them. _Why did he leave that part out?_ She knew the traditional vows would have made no sense coming from her lips, but they could have been changed to something suitable. _Take no husband, bear no child_ , perhaps? She hardly needed to swear that vow, she would never have the opportunity for those things, nor did she want them.

A troublesome thought intruded, reminding her there was a brief time not long ago when her life had been filled with terrifying possibility. She blinked the thought away with an unbidden shiver down her spine and allowed herself to smile at the well-wishers before her. She knew she should be overwhelmed with joy, but all she felt was tired. 

“Congratulations, Lord Commander!” Podrick exclaimed as he approached her, beaming with joy. 

“Thank you, Pod,” she replied, her smile feeling genuine for a moment. They continued their pleasantries until his face suddenly grew solemn.

“He asked about you again, Ser,” Podrick said to her sadly. “He wants to see you.” Her smile faltered and she sighed. 

“Tell him what I said before, that he can remain in the areas of the Keep he’s been confined to and help out when needed, but I have nothing to say to him.” Podrick nodded before stepping aside to allow Tyrion and Bronn a chance to offer congratulations to the new Lord Commander. Tyrion must have heard what she said to Podrick because he offered her a sympathetic look. Thankfully, he didn’t comment on the exchange or mention his brother.

By the time King Bran announced he was ready to take his leave, her face hurt from the smile she’d been forcing. She pushed his chair out of the makeshift great hall and headed towards his makeshift chambers. She spent several silent minutes trying to decide if she should speak up. 

“I know what you wish to ask me, Lord Commander.”

“Pardon me, Your Grace?” She knew this was normal for him, but it still caught her off guard when it happened.

“I left out the vow to never marry or have children for a reason. I left it out because it wouldn’t be right.” He said nothing further and the cryptic silence made her uneasy. 

“Why wouldn’t it be right, Your Grace?” she finally asked, almost ashamed of her curiosity.

“When you vowed to renounce your titles and your land, you left your father and Tarth with no heir.” She wanted to interject that she did so freely, with the permission and understanding of her father, but he continued in his peculiar, monotonous voice.

“You can no longer be the next Evenstar, but your first born will be.” 

Brienne heard an unpleasant buzzing in her ears and felt her pulse racing. She willed her breath to steady, but everything suddenly seemed out of focus. _Not again,_ she thought miserably.

“First born, Your Grace?” she heard her voice say though the buzzing.

“I will declare the children you have, whether or not you marry, to be your legitimate heirs. Tarth will be ruled wisely by your descendants for many years to come.” Icy tendrils of fear crept up her spine at his words.

“I couldn’t,” she began, and paused to gather her thoughts. “How could I, as Lord Commander, have children? It would be one thing for a man to sire a child in a brothel, but I couldn’t raise a child and still carry out my duties. I couldn’t be...” the word caught in her throat and she suddenly felt sick. “I couldn’t be with child, and still guard you with my life. It would go completely against my vows. I just...no.” It was difficult to breathe and everything swam around her, but the king seemed placidly unaware of her distress. 

“The rest of the Kingsguard will carry out your duties when you cannot, and Ser Jaime will dedicate himself to fatherhood with pride and devotion. You won’t let yourself take much time off when Galladon is born, but the twins will require a longer confinement.”

Brienne gripped the back of the wheelchair with white knuckles but managed to keep putting one foot in front of the other until they reached the King’s chambers. 

Her thoughts raced beyond her control. _How could he say such things? Is he deliberately trying to hurt me? A son named Galladon...with Jaime? Twins?!?_

“That is only one of many possible futures,” he said once they had stopped. “You control your fate, just as you always have.” She felt herself calming a little, but deep in her bones, she was still shaking.

“Thank you, Your Grace,” she muttered, not trusting herself to say anything further. When she arrived at his chambers, she allowed the guards posted there to take over and nodded her farewell. 

“Lord Commander,” he suddenly said, and she halted mid-step. “Ser Jaime has sufficiently recovered from his injuries and should be put to useful work. I will leave his assignment up to your discretion, though I must add that he would do well training the new squires and recruits. We currently have no Master-at-arms and a number of lords have already sent their sons to train here in King’s Landing, hoping to gain my favor. ”

Brienne nodded, worried that her voice would betray the emotion she felt at each utterance of his name. The king resumed his usual placid expression and she took her leave. After what felt like hours, she made her way to what was left of the White Sword Tower, to the room that had once been his. It wasn’t her choice to sleep there. It was the only room still mostly intact, and as much as she wanted to avoid all traces of him, she couldn’t stay in a room with missing walls or no ceiling. As it was, she had to patch a few holes with pieces of wood to keep the draft out.

After barricading the door shut, she allowed herself to fall apart. She had promised herself months ago that she would never cry about him or what happened ever again. Now all of her carefully constructed walls crumbled like the destroyed tower around her. She hurriedly stripped off the golden armor she was so proud of, letting each piece clatter to the floor with no effort to place it on the stand in the corner. She curled up on the small bed and let the sobs pour out of her like a never ending river. 

Images flashed unbidden through her mind as she wept and shook like a leaf. _The glow of Jaime’s bare skin in the firelight_ . _His face that night in the courtyard before he turned his back on her. The knowing grin of a toothless old woman as she prodded Brienne’s belly with a gnarled finger. Waking up to find the blood. So much blood. Sansa’s aching look of sympathy. The sight of Jaime’s nearly broken body as he lay sleeping on a narrow cot, somehow still alive after the Keep fell on him. The glimpses she had of him from a distance, slowly learning how to walk again, to fight again, while she hid in the shadows, afraid to approach him._ All of it came up at once, crashing over her like a wave as she shuddered. 

Brienne didn’t know how long she remained huddled under the furs, but she knew that night came and went and that sleep might have overtaken her once or twice. When she finally gathered the strength to stand on shaking legs, she felt somewhat whole again. Pieces of her were still missing, lost long ago, but she was enough of herself to be the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. In the time spent donning each piece of golden armor without the help of a squire and then draping the white cloak around her shoulders, she regained a little of that missing part of her heart and it was enough to keep going.

She sent for food and for Podrick and the two of them broke their fast together, discussing the work ahead of them. She was proud of the young man who had accomplished so much in the time they had shared together. She planned to knight him soon, and was contemplating asking him to be part of the Kingsguard. Reforming the Kingsguard was the first task on her list of responsibilities and she and Podrick discussed possible candidates. The list was depressingly short, with all of the lives lost so recently, and they knew they would have to do some traveling soon to find worthy replacements.

After establishing the plans for the day, she was about to set off when she remembered the task King Bran had given her. The tentative joy disintegrated as she forced out the words.

“Pod, the King has asked us to put Ser Jaime to work now that he has sufficiently recovered. He suggested having Jaime work with the new recruits. This sounds like an appropriate task for him, but I will need you to see to it for me.” She was about to rush ahead and explain that she couldn’t face him yet, that she was a shameful coward, but he cut her off before she could speak.

“Yes, My La….I mean Ser...I mean Lord Commander. It will be done as you asked, I promise.” She felt the tension in her belly soften at his earnest words, and let a soft smile surface on her lips. 

“Thank you Pod, your help in this matter means a great deal to me.” That made him grin like a fool and she dismissed him with a fond eye roll. 

\----------------

As each new day dawned and she put one foot in front of the other, Brienne saw slow but steady progress all around her. The foundations of the Keep were slowly coming together again, as workers from the six kingdoms and even the North arrived to help with the rebuilding. She tracked down candidates for the Kingsguard and one by one administered the vows and draped white cloaks around their shoulders. 

The final member was Podrick, whom she knighted during a feast to the sound of loud cheers echoing through the partially rebuilt hall. She had never seen a person so happy as he had been that day, and the warmth she felt carried her through the darkness that crept up when guard was down. 

The one thing that threatened her mostly content existence, were the weekly reports from Podrick on the progress Ser Jaime had made with the squires and recruits. She knew that it was her duty as Lord Commander to oversee his work herself, but every time she approached the training yard and saw that it wasn’t empty, an invisible barrier stopped her. Podrick didn’t seem to mind being the proxy for her, but she felt shame at her inability to carry out this part of her job. Every so often, Podrick would convey a brief message from him, always on the progress of the recruits. He had stopped asking to see her long ago. 

He had been granted permission to access all areas of the keep, but tended to stay in the areas close to the training yard, rarely venturing into the great hall. She knew he was respectfully giving her space, and despite her best efforts, this small gesture of kindness brought up tender emotions. This was why she took such great effort to avoid crossing paths with him. She feared the moment he looked into her eyes, the walls she had carefully rebuilt would come crashing down and all of her anger and sorrow would be unleashed. She didn’t want to give him that, to let him see her so vulnerable.

The few times she had given in and allowed herself to watch him at work from a distance, she kept her resolve in place and viewed him as a fellow soldier doing his job. The King had officially appointed him Master-at-arms and she could tell he was prouder of that title than of the titles he had been born to. He was the perfect teacher to work with the young men who flocked to King's Landing, that much was evident from both her rare glimpses and the reports she received. The progress he was making with even the youngest and most unsure lads was steady and strong. When giving reports on Jaime’s work to the small council, the King would nod and make cryptic comments about how things were going as he had predicted, while Bronn would give her such a lascivious grin that she could only scowl in response. Tyrion’s expression at those moments could best be described as wistful, and she wondered what his brother had been telling him.

One advantage to being Lord Commander was that she set the watch schedule for the Kingsguard, and could ensure that she was free to use the training yard at odd hours of the night when she knew Jaime wouldn’t be there. The moonlight bathed her as she hacked away at the straw dummies, ignoring the longing she felt to spar with someone who could really challenge her. _This is enough_ , she told herself. _This is all I can ask for_.

The realization that it wasn’t enough came when Jaime finally approached her, after months of keeping his distance. She didn’t see him at first, and didn’t know how long he had stood back watching her. When she finally noticed him, she nearly dropped her sword. He approached slowly, with his hands up in front of him, as though she was an easily spooked animal. He still walked with a limp from his injured leg, and his hair and beard had more grey than she remembered, but he was still beautiful enough to take her breath away. He was carrying a training sword of his own, and when he raised it and assumed a fighting stance, she understood his intent.

Neither of them spoke as they began to spar. It was tentative at first, a cautious dance between shy partners. After a few minutes, they both fell into their old fighting patterns and it was thrilling. She hadn’t had the chance to fight someone with his skill in ages, and it felt so good to hear the sound of metal on metal and see obvious joy on his face. Even with the decreased mobility in his leg, he moved with an elegant grace. She tired sooner than she would have liked to, a reminder that she was neglecting her training, and it briefly occurred to her that she had felt the same way after a very different sort of dance with Jaime. The memory of his bare skin under her fingertips shocked her and she had to step away from him.

She saw the concern on his face right before she dropped her sword and ran. He called her name, his first word spoken to her since that night in Winterfell. It occurred to her later how unusual his silence during their sparring was, given that he used to never shut up in her presence. When she was back in the safety of her chambers, she allowed that scrap of memory to play out in full and burned with shame and desire.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A confrontation that needed to happen and a new challenge to undertake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for a bit of angst and mentions of miscarriage.

For the next sennite, Brienne was able to train in peace, though a small, shameful part of her wished he would return. She found herself watching him from a distance more frequently, hiding in the shadows and haunting him like a wraith. It was amazing to watch him training the young men, most barely older than boys, who had flocked to the ruins of King’s Landing in hopes of becoming knights. He was patient with those who needed coaxing and a hardass with those who needed to be pushed. He showed little mercy, making them run through drills again and again, but showered them with praise when they finally got the moves right. Brienne had never seen him like this before, he seemed so happy and at ease. The sorrow that had been interwoven into every piece of him was gone.

She couldn’t say the same for herself. She poured all of her energy into her work as a distraction but it wasn’t enough. There were days when she wanted to scream at everyone around her or shut herself in her room and never leave again. She moved past those urges, reminding herself of her responsibilities and the people who depended on her. As she stood guard for her king, she worked to still her thoughts and calm her emotions with a steady, even breath. Sometimes, she was able to find a delicate sense of peace. 

That peace was shattered the next time he appeared while she was training late at night. It was a moonless night, so she had a few torches lit to cast a circle of light to work in. When he stepped out of the darkness, she sucked in a stuttering breath, willing herself not to show how rattled she was by his sudden appearance. He raised his sword again and she responded in kind. This time, she would not let him remain silent.

“Why are you here, Ser Jaime?”

“I think that’s pretty self explanatory, Wench.” She inhaled sharply at his utterance of that name. He lunged forward with his blade raised and she met him head on.

“You haven't earned the right to call me that,” she snapped, swiftly parrying his strike. “I don’t know that you ever will.” The look on his face turned grim at that.

“I know,” he uttered, his stance faltering momentarily. He recovered and struck back swiftly, the ringing sound punctuating his statement. 

“But you don’t know,” she responded, putting all of her strength into her next strike. “You really don’t know.” 

“I know what I did was unforgivable and quite possibly the worst decision I’ve ever made. Don’t scoff at me, wench,” he countered, seeing her look of incredulity. “I know my bad decisions are infamous, the stuff of legends, but that was the worst of them. I dishonored the most honorable woman I know, and deeply hurt my dearest friend.” 

She continued to frown at his superlative statements, striking at him with a force and fury she hadn’t felt in quite some time. She could see he was tiring, but still pushed him further. 

“I am working every single day to be the man you thought I was when you vouched for me at Winterfell. I’m not doing this to earn your forgiveness, I know I will never be worthy of it, but because I want to be able to wake up each day without hating myself.” He put so much force into his words that he seemed drained after uttering them. 

Brienne was momentarily stunned. She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting him to say, but it wasn’t something this vulnerable and raw. The look of sincerity laced with sorrow broke her already shattered heart, but she strengthened her resolve and pushed forward. He yielded quickly, and she took little satisfaction in it. 

She reached out to help him up, and the grasp of his hand was almost too much to bear. She stood for a moment, watching him, and he stared back at her with the same sorrow. The emotions she had been holding back leapt up into her chest, and the racing of her heart made her feel dizzy. She started shaking and knew the words would start pouring out of her a moment before it happened. 

“I was with child when you left,” she blurted out, then squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn’t look at the shock she knew was all over his stupid, beautiful face, but she could still hear the sharp intake of breath, and it was enough to make her waver for a moment. 

“I didn’t know then, of course,” she continued after a pause. “I’ve never...my cycles have never been regular, so it never occurred to me. Stupid, I know.” She swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry. She heard him blurt out a few words, trying to tell her she wasn’t stupid, that it was his fault, but she couldn’t bear to listen so she continued.

“I fainted while guarding Lady Sansa a moon after you left, and she sent me to the maester, who immediately sent me to the midwife. She looked me over and asked a lot of questions before pronouncing me,” her voice left her, drying up in her throat. Even now she couldn’t say the word. “I...I cried. I was in shock, it seemed unimaginable.” Her heart continued racing, the recent memory suddenly real in her mind, the pain washing over her again. She heard him moving towards her and she put a hand up to stop him.

“The midwife offered me a tincture of tansy and I nearly took it. I was so heartbroken and angry at you for leaving, I wanted every trace of you out of my body. I thought that then I could go back to pretending it never happened, that it wasn’t real.” She heard his ragged breathing, but he held himself still, trying not to spook her. She listened to the pulse in her ears a few moments longer, until she could speak again.

“I hesitated because I still loved you, even after everything you did. I hated myself for it, but couldn’t deny it. I thought that maybe it would be worth it, that I could bear the shame of having the Kingslayer’s bastard because that love would shield me from the pain and mockery.” Another sharp intake of breath when she spoke that name, but he didnt’ move.

“In the end, there wasn’t a choice in the matter. I awoke the next day with my blood soaking through the bedding and knew that whatever had been there the day before was gone. The midwife said it was a common thing to lose a babe early on and not to worry, but I couldn’t stop thinking that my body couldn’t even do the one thing a woman’s body is supposed to do. Lady Sansa was worried of course, but I recovered soon enough and there was nothing else to do but forget about it.”

Brienne opened her eyes and wiped away the tears streaming from them. His face came into focus and she saw the same tears flowing freely from his eyes. She knew he desperately wanted to take her in his arms, to try to comfort her, but she couldn’t bear it. She wanted to lash out at him, to scream at him for the pain he had caused her, but settled for just a few mumbled words.

“The few people who knew were sworn to secrecy to protect what little was left of my reputation, though it didn’t help. There are still those who call me Kingslayer’s whore when they think I can’t hear them, did you know that? Even now, as Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, I am mocked because I let myself think you loved me and then you left to go die with your sister. Except you didn’t die and here you are, reminding me each day what I fool I was.” 

Brienne wanted to say more, but was exhausted down to her bones. She had always been a woman of few words and never spoke this much at once to anyone. It felt oddly good and terrifying at the same time. She turned and ran from the circle of torchlight, rushing back to the solitude of her chamber where she could finish falling apart in peace. 

The next day, she feared Jaime would seek her out again, but he thankfully kept his distance. She felt strangely better after her embarrassing confession. It was as if the weight of those memories had been lifted, the pressure released. She wondered at times if unburdening herself had placed all of the weight and sorrow upon Jaime’s back, but decided she didn’t care. 

She focused on her established routine and her duties, trying to be fully present and not lost in her thoughts. It was easier now with the burden of her emotions relieved, but the boredom from long hours standing guard sometimes coaxed her fears and insecurities up from the back of her mind. She turned back to focusing on her breathing, trying to let the torturous thoughts float away like storm clouds. With Jaime avoiding her once more, things started to feel normal.

Then the messages started coming in from minor nobles across the land, requests to send their daughters to train under the Lady Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. 

“There have been three requests thus far, but I suspect more will soon follow,” announced Tyrion at the small council meeting. “All three have stated their daughters, none of them older than ten, have an affinity for fighting and few marriage prospects. They are hoping their girls can one day be Lady knights, because you have shown that it is possible.” King Bran nodded placidly, and Brienne half expected him to say that he had seen it coming, though he remained silent. Tyrion awkwardly cleared his throat.

“The nobles in question had specifically requested that their daughters be trained by you, Ser. I know that you can’t take on the full burden with your duties to the King, so Ser Jaime will work with them when you cannot. I know that…” He faltered for a moment, looking deep in thought. 

“I understand, Lord Tyrion,” she interjected with a formal tone. “This is a life-changing opportunity for these girls, and I will dedicate as much time as I can towards their training. I will work with Ser Jaime on this matter for him to fill in for the times I cannot be there. You have my word, nothing will interfere with this.” She didn’t have to say the words for Tyrion to understand her meaning, and he nodded with a tentative smile. 

Ravens were sent back to the nobles, and the three girls arrived in Kings Landing by the next moon.

The Ladies Ella, Tamsyn and Reina were very different in appearance from each other, each falling well outside the norms of what was considered beautiful. They immediately took a liking to each other and to Brienne, and she was delighted to see they all shared the drive that had felt within herself when she was their age. She was also highly amused to see that none of them particularly liked wearing gowns and seemed happiest in the breaches and tunics Brienne had made for them. 

For the first moon, the girls trained exclusively with Brienne in a makeshift training yard where the gardens once stood so that she could get a feel for their abilities. She also wanted to keep them away from the boys Jaime trained to let them build some confidence first. She remembered the cruelty she had endured from the boys who taunted her as a child and the men in Renly’s camp who wagered for her maidenhead. She knew she couldn’t shield them from such torments forever, but hoped that by building up their internal armor, they could endure them better than she had. 

Lady Ella was tiny and slight, with dark hair and dark eyes, reminding Brienne of a young Arya Stark. Brienne focused Ella’s training on speed and stealth, and she quickly showed a proficiency in close-quarters combat with knives. Training Ella was enlightening for Brienne, as she had rarely worked with smaller blades herself. It was out of Brienne’s comfort zone, but found herself learning new skills herself as she worked with her young pupil. There were times though, when she wished Arya Stark was still around to offer a few pointers.

Lady Tamsyn was taller than Ella, with a stocky build and huge mane of curly red hair. Brienne taught her how to swing a blade with her powerful arms, and she quickly gained confidence in her abilities. She was the most talkative of the three and constantly peppered Brienne with questions. Brienne didn’t mind this, and was happy to answer her student’s queries, within reason. Whenever the questions became more personal in nature, Brienne would steer the topic back to training. 

Lady Reina was tall and gangly, nearly as tall as Brienne had been at that age, with pale hair tightly braided into a long plait. She struggled at first, constantly tripping over her own feet and dropping her sword.She wasn’t as strong or fast as the other two, and the frustration in her eyes made Brienne ache. It didn’t take long, however, for that frustration to lead to a breakthrough. Fed up with losing match after match to Ella and Tamsyn, Reina picked up an axe sitting on a nearby woodpile and threw it at the closest sparring dummy. Brienne was amazed as the axe landed in the center of the dummy’s head, cleaving it in two. After that, Reina’s training focused on precision, both with bow and arrow and thrown blades. 

Brienne also taught them the duties of a squire, and most days would have one of them assist her with putting on and removing her armor. She had to suppress the urge to laugh the day she realized that all three of them were more adept after a few weeks than Podrick ever was. She also found that Tamsyn would stop her endless talking when assigned to clean armor, so Brienne would routinely give her that task when the girl’s questions made her uncomfortable. Her armor had never been so clean. 

The girls adored Podrick, and also loved tormenting him. Brienne didn’t chide them for asking him ridiculous questions and giggling madly at his answers, but she did have to punish Ella for stealing pieces of his armor and hiding them in strange places. To his credit, Podrick patiently endured the jokes and pranks, and she could tell he had a true affection for them, though he occasionally called them “the little monsters”. 

The Red Keep’s Maiden Vault was still a pile of rubble, so the girls shared a room next to Brienne’s in the White Sword Tower. This arrangement allowed Brienne to keep an eye on her young charges, but it also meant she was frequently awakened at night by fits of giggling or screams of terror at Tamsyn’s elaborate ghost stories. Brienne would usually yell “go to sleep!”, but did not begrudge them their stories and jokes. She didn’t grow up with sisters or female friends, and never experienced the easy camaraderie the girls had with each other. It made her all the more thankful that she was able to bring them together.

Once the girls had learned the basics of a squire’s duties and their chosen styles of combat, Brienne turned them over to Jaime to continue their training. She was nervous at first, loathe as she was to trust him with anything, but eventually relented after receiving cryptic reasurances from King Bran. 

While Brienne was glad to return to her Kingsguard duties, she found she missed the girls’ chatter during the day and would have them give her full reports of their activities when they returned to the White Sword Tower. At first they talked about new skills they had learned and which boy they managed to best while sparring, but their talk would always end up on the topic of Ser Jaime, much to Brienne’s dismay. They were young enough to have never heard of the Kingslayer’s oathbreaking exploits and thus only had glowing opinions of their teacher. It was all “Ser Jaime showed me how to disarm a man fifteen different ways” from Ella and “Ser Jaime is my hero because he let me kick a boy in the balls for mocking me” from Tamsyn, and occasionally even “Ser Jaime is soooooo handsome” from Reina, which was troubling. 

Brienne soon realized she would have to speak directly with Jaime in order to get accurate reports on the girls’ progress that weren’t full of bizarre exaggerations. On an afternoon when she wasn’t on duty, she spent some time on one of the walls of the keep that overlooked the training yard. She observed Jaime working with his young charges, boys and girls alike, and found herself filled with a sense of awe. She had seen him in action before and knew he was an excellent teacher, but watching him working with the lady squires was something else entirely. He seemed to know exactly the right way to teach each of them, though they all had different styles of learning. 

Ella absorbed his words like a sponge, and he would talk her carefully though each move, providing as many details as possible. Tamsyn learned best through repetition, and Jaime had her walk through moves and practicing strikes over and over again until she could do it without thinking. Reina learned by watching others, so Jaime would demonstrate each move over and over until his student could copy him exactly. Brienne remembered that she had learned to fight by feeling her way through it, and wondered what it would have been like if Jaime had been the one adjusting her grip on her sword’s hilt. She felt her telltale flush spreading across her face and nearly fled back to the safety of the tower. 

She made herself stay and watch, mentally taking notes on each girl. By the time Jaime dismissed everyone for the day, she had a good sense of where each of them was in her training, but had a few questions. After steeling herself, she descended the stairs into the training yard where he was putting away swords and cleaning up the straw that had fallen from the dummies. 

“I noticed you had Lady Ella and Lady Reina training with longswords along with Lady Tamsyn today,” she said as she approached him, her heart hammering in her throat. “That isn’t where their strengths lie.” He looked startled to see her at first, but his features immediately softened into what could almost be called a smile.

“I’m cross-training all of them in as many weapons as they can manage. At their age, they can pick up new skills easily and I want them to be well rounded fighters. They are doing marvelously, but you already know that. They all have their own natural talents, but your training really allowed them to flourish. You have three promising future knights on your hands.” Brienne flushed at the unexpected praise. 

“Thank you, Ser Jaime,” she began, seeing the twitch of disappointment on his face at the use of his formal title. “You have certainly made a good impression on them, as they can’t stop talking about you. Did you really let Tamsyn kick a lad in the balls for mocking her?” He had the courtesy of looking sheepish at that, though she could also tell he was trying to suppress a chuckle.

“Not exactly,” he began, and she found herself raising an eyebrow the way she used to at his outlandish claims. She quickly schooled her features back into a neutral expression. “Young Lord Roderick wouldn’t stop tormenting Tamsyn and I knew that punishing him myself would only make it worse, you know how it is with boys like that.” She knew exactly, and nodded.

“I know that settling arguments with combat often doesn’t always go as expected, but I had faith in Lady Tamsyn’s abilities and she did not disappoint. I set them up to spar with tourney swords, as it usually goes in the training yard, but it just so happened that I’d spent the day before teaching the girls how to fight dirty against a man.” Brienne knew this quite well because they wouldn’t stop talking about it all evening. She could now see exactly how it had played out before Jaime told her.

“The fight started out as usual, and they were well matched in their abilities. If they didn’t hate each other so vehemently, I would have them train together more often. Or perhaps I should have them train together for exactly that reason. It worked for us, didn’t it?” An impatient glare from Brienne sent him back to the correct topic. “Tamsyn’s endurance is impressive and she soon drove him to the point of exhaustion. When she finally overpowered him and knocked him to the ground, she used that opportunity to demonstrate one of the techniques I showed her yesterday. Don’t worry, Roderick recovered and should still be able to father children. His pride was more wounded than his body, but he holds a newfound respect for Tamsyn. I also get the sense that he is either terrified of her or a bit in love with her. Perhaps both.” 

“How are the other two fairing, training with the boys?” Brienne interrupted, wanting to stay on topic. If she let him drive the conversation, she knew they would end up reminiscing about their ill-fated trip through the Riverlands, or worse. 

“Well enough, from what I’ve observed. Lady Reina can be a little skittish at times, but the other two girls act as a buffer to keep the boys away from her. Lady Ella can have a sharp tongue, which she should learn to keep in check. As you well know, the world frowns upon highborn ladies acting as wildly as lads. I can teach them to hold their own against a foe on the battlefield, but withstanding the sharp tongues and barbed words at court is another thing entirely.” Brienne nodded, making a note to work with them on their social graces. She hated that Jaime was right, but he was right all the same. When the look on his face suddenly grew wistful, she braced herself for what she knew was coming.

“Brienne,” he began, and she leveled a look at him. “Ser Brienne,” he corrected himself. “We haven’t spoken since the night you told me.” His voice tapered off and he stood there silently, looking adrift and unsure, something she had rarely seen in the past, but with increasing frequency since their parting at Winterfell. 

“Since the night you told me what happened after I left. When you lost the babe. Lost  _ our _ babe.” Brienne took a few steps back from him and squeezed her eyes shut, willing him to stop talking.

“There is no need to say anything about that, Ser Jaime. Like I said before, I wish to forget that it happened. It wasn’t your fault, it wasn’t anyone’s fault.”

“But it was my fault that you had to go through it alone. I should have been there with you. I have regretted leaving you every moment of every day and I know I have no right to ask for your forgiveness…”

“You are correct, Ser Jaime,” she said, cutting him off. “You don’t have any right to ask for my forgiveness. Now if you will excuse me, I must return to my duties.” 

The dejected look on his face might have tugged at her heart once, but now she grew weary of it. The weariness stayed with her as she made her way back to the White Sword tower, knowing she would have to listen to the girls talking endlessly about Ser Jaime for the rest of the evening.


	3. Chapter 3

Brienne made some changes to the watch order for the next fortnight so that she could work with the girls on her own and evaluate the skills Jaime had taught them. She had to admit she was pleased with their improvement. They all had a tiny sliver of the sureness she’d once seen when fighting Jaime on that bridge in the Riverlands. The same sureness he had mostly regained after years of practice. 

As much as she tried to banish him from her mind, she knew he was right about the dangers the girls would face in court if she let them run wild. They had all received the same lessons she had as a child, though thankfully none of the septas who taught them were as cruel as Septa Roelle. She wasn’t about to force embroidery lessons on them, but when she discovered they all actually enjoyed dancing, she had them practice some court dances in between lessons. As most of those dances required an even number of people, she would dance alongside them and found she didn’t hate it. She knew she was a graceful dancer despite her size, but she never had ease and lack of self-consciousness she observed in the girls. She was generous in her encouragement and gentle in her corrections, hoping she would never invoke in them the shame she had experienced at their age. 

At the end of the two weeks, she decided to bring them to King Bran’s court to observe the proceedings. They were all still too young to be officially presented at court, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t prepare for it. Clad in the gowns they brought with them but hadn’t worn much, they didn’t look like the other ladies present at court, but didn’t seem bothered by it. Mostly they just stared wide-eyed at finely clad nobles and Kingsguard in their golden armor that matched hers. They were largely ignored by the crowd, which pleased Brienne. She quietly pointed out nobles and Kingsguard to the girls, who were too overwhelmed to remember any of the names. 

As she was gathering them up to return to their quarters, she heard a loud whispered taunt that sounded like the hiss of a snake. She didn’t bother looking for the culprit as they walked out, but then saw Reina staring back in the direction of the whisper, her eyes wide with shock. Brienne was filled with dread mixed with shame, knowing she would have to explain to Reina what she had heard. The other girls thankfully seemed blissfully ignorant. 

Brienne hoped she would have some time to put together the right words but she wasn’t afforded it. An hour later, while she was eating supper with the girls, Reina, who had looked deeply troubled since the great hall, blurted out her question.

“Ser Brienne,” she began in a quiet voice, her eyes on her plate as she picked at her food. “Why did that man call you Kingslayer’s whore?” Ella and Tamsyn looked up suddenly at Reina’s words. Ella looked shocked but Tamsyn looked furious.

“One of the boys in the training yard said that the other day. He said Ser Jaime was the Kingslayer and you were the Kingslayer’s whore, so I punched him right in the face and bloodied his nose. I would have punched him some more but Ser Jaime stepped between us and made us go to opposite sides of the training yard and clean armor for the rest of the day.” Tamsyn made a pouting face and Brienne couldn’t decide whether to be angry or proud. She settled on deeply concerned and wondered why Jaime hadn’t mentioned the incident to her. 

“I understand that you were angry at what that boy said,” she began, trying to sound like the calm role model she was trying to be, “but it wasn’t a problem to solve with your fists. As a Lady and as a Knight, you must learn discernment when facing an opponent. Sometimes you will have to use words and actions instead, and in this case there were other options.”

“Like what?” said Tamsyn, who bounced up and down in excitement. “Should I have told him his mother was a whore? Or snuck into the dormitory and put a dead rat in his bed? Or properly challenged him to a duel?”

Brienne was at a loss for words. She knew what her reaction would be, what her reaction always was in those situations. She would ignore the person and act like the words didn’t bother her, when in fact they hurt her a great deal. She never wanted to give bullies the satisfaction of seeing her anger, but suffering in silence was its own form of misery. She wanted her girls to have better options, but wasn’t sure how to teach them the skills they needed to navigate the difficult world they were entering.

“It can be difficult to know how to act in the face of cruelty, but you must remember to act honorably. I will not tell you to ignore an insult completely for I know it is impossible, but you must use discernment in deciding how to react. Don’t escalate a situation unless it is necessary.” She knew it was a vague answer, but it was all she could think of on the fly

“How do I know if it’s necessary?” asked Tamsyn, not one for letting things go. 

“If an innocent is in immediate danger, for one. For the rest, you will learn soon enough how to sense it. Ser Jaime will make sure of that, as will I.” Reina perked up at the mention of Jaime’s name, much to Brienne’s chagrin.

“Now will you tell us why those people said such awful things about you and Ser Jaime? Why do they call him the Kingslayer? Were the two of you…” Her face grew serious and her voice dropped to a whisper. “Were the two of you lovers?”

Reina had the good sense to look sheepish and terrified at the look of displeasure Brienne leveled at her. Brienne’s face flushed as well, but the girl seemed to think it was out of anger rather than embarrassment. Again, she was at a loss. She knew the girls would soon learn the popular version of Jaime’s history from those who didn’t know the whole story. She would never betray Jaime’s trust, but she knew she could at least reveal enough so that the girls understood the truth behind his actions.

“Go do your evening chores and get ready for bed,” she instructed them, and they scurried off.

Later that evening, with the girls tucked into their beds and Ella clutching the raggedy doll she couldn’t sleep without, Brienne told them Jaime’s story. She began with his being knighted, which made the girls nearly swoon with delight, and ended with Ned Stark finding him next to the body of the king. Certain facts were omitted, such as the Mad King’s obsession with wildfire, because she knew it would give Reina nightmares. Instead, she emphasized the existence of a terrible threat that Jaime’s actions had mitigated. In all, Brienne thought she did a decent job of telling the story, judging from the rapt attention of her audience.

“So girls, that is why Ser Jaime was called the Kingslayer for so long that it persists until this day, despite the good things he has done since then.” It felt strange to talk about him that way, after spending so long trying not to even think about him. All three of her charges looked aghast and Brienne despaired at them being able to sleep that night.

“That’s so unfair!” cried Ella, looking close to tears.

“How dare they! Those ungrateful sons of whores!” growled Tamsyn, and Brienne chided her for her language the tenth time that day. 

“We live in an unjust world where many things are unfair, I’m afraid. What’s important though is that you know the truth, which you will carry with you in your hearts. This, however, does not mean you will go spitting the truth out at the first boy who vexes you. Very few people know what really happened and we will keep it that way as Ser Jaime asked me to long ago. Even if Lord Roderick calls Ser Jaime a dozen names, you will not repeat what I just told you. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Ser Brienne,” the girls sing-songed in unison. 

She nearly rolled her eyes but found herself smiling instead. She generally tried to avoid coddling them, but she knew the story had riled them up past the point of sleeping, so she spent some time talking about the beaches and mountains of Tarth in as soothing a voice as she could muster. It seemed to do the trick, because they were all asleep after 20 minutes, with Tamsyn snoring loudly.

Brienne didn’t want to send the girls back to Jaime right away, but a large entourage of visitors was expected the next day and she needed to be at King Bran’s side. She fretted throughout the day as she watched noble after noble attempting to outdo each other with obsequiousness towards the king. She worried that one of the girls, most likely Tamsyn, would let their temper get the better of them and say something they shouldn’t. She already regretted telling them because she knew it wasn’t her story to tell. At least no angry messages were passed to her, which she took to be a good sign.

The day dragged on until it was already the girls’ bedtime when she returned to the White Sword tower. There were no mentions of yesterday’s story as the girls all talked over each other to relate the events of the day. It seemed that they had forgotten all about it in favor of the new weapons they had been given. They were still blunted blades, but larger and heavier than what they had been working with before. Tamsyn in particular was excited that this put her one step closer to wielding a real blade. Brienne had often caught her staring at Oathkeeper longingly and wasn’t sure how to break it to Tamsyn that she most likely would never wield a weapon like that. 

After what felt like the dozenth time she had told them the story of Ser Duncan the Tall, the girls appeared to have settled down and were nearly asleep. She tried to tiptoe out of the room, but was halted by the quiet voice of Reina.

“Ser Brienne, you still haven’t told us why people call you....why they call you that name. Is it because of something Ser Jaime did?” Brienne sighed and tried to formulate a response to that very complicated question. When no answer came to mind, she told Reina to go to sleep and that they would talk about it later. 

She hoped the girl would forget about her question, but knew it was unlikely she would have such luck.


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning, Reina gave Brienne a pointed look as she was ushering them all to the training yard. Once Ella and Tamsyn were underway with their warm-up drills, Brienne took Reina aside, terrified of how the conversation would go. To her surprise Reina hugged her. 

“I don’t care about what anyone says about you, Ser Brienne, or about Ser Jaime. You are the kindest people I have ever known and that’s all that matters.” Brienne couldn’t think of a thing to say, but tears pricked her eyes at the thought that no one had shown the girl much kindness until now. 

Reina hugged her again before running off to start her warmup drills and Brienne felt a warmth in her heart she had long thought herself no longer capable of. The warmth continued to fill her as she proudly watched the three girls hacking away at the training dummies. She then spied Jaime approaching them, with a similar look of warmth and pride on his face and she had to avert her gaze as she knew her face was turning a splotchy red. 

She willed the color to fade and schooled her features into her usual stern gaze before turning back to look at him. He saw her and smiled, holding up a hand in greeting. She returned the gesture and was reminded of a similar exchange as she was escaping Riverrun in a rowboat so long ago. She nodded at him and allowed herself the smallest edge of a smile before turning to depart for the King’s chambers. 

The day wound its way slowly through Brienne’s awareness as she stood guard by the king through endless audiences with petitioners. She was half startled out of a daydream when Bran suddenly dismissed her for the day.

“Go to the training yard,” were his only instructions, and she hurriedly called Ser Merick to take her place by the king’s side. Sudden apprehension welled up in her chest as she made her way to the training yard, fearing the worst. It wouldn’t be the first time that the king’s cryptic instructions proceeded some unforeseen calamity. She was relieved when she arrived to see nothing amiss. The young men and women were sparring enthusiastically while Jaime made his way through the training yard, shouting instructions and corrections as he went. 

She watched them for a few moments, letting her heartbeat settle and her nerves calm. Still unsure why Bran had sent her away so suddenly, she sat down on the narrow bench along the wall to rest. She didn’t like to acknowledge that she was getting older, but there were times when standing all day in armor took its toll on her body. She watched the energetic youths clash their blunted blades together, some moving awkwardly and others with natural grace. The warm feeling of pride returned as she watched her three girls hold their own in combat. The unique fighting styles she had been trying to nurture in each of them were fully on display.

Ella’s quick and fluid movements were near mesmerising to watch, and the young lad she was sparring with was panting and red in the face from trying to keep up. Tamsyn was grunting loudly with each blow she dealt Roderick, and Brienne could swear it was her younger self out there fighting. The lad looked simultaneously terrified and delighted as he met each powerful strike. Reina moved with more economy than the other two, making carefully calculated strikes and swift dodges. Brienne could practically see the girl’s brain spinning as she ducked under her opponent's blade and then landed a blow, catching him off guard.

“You’ve done amazing work with them.” Brienne looked up to see Jaime approach and take a seat next to her on the bench.

“So have you. I certainly can’t take all of the credit, as much as I would like to.” She saw his grin from the corner of her eye and her mouth turned up at the edges. It felt good to hear him acknowledge her efforts, and she decided for once not to suppress those warm feelings. Dropping her guard for a moment, she let her posture relax and sensed him reflexively mirroring her movements. 

“I never thought I would have the chance to do anything good with my life after everything I have done,” he said quietly. “I thought I was marked for death for my sins, and that my legacy was to forever be known as oathbreaker. Perhaps this doesn’t count as redemption, but it’s more than I ever thought I would be granted.” The look on his face was that of quiet contentment, something she had only ever seen while they had held each other under the furs in her bed at Winterfell. The memory changed the warmth she felt to something brighter, the color rising to her cheeks.

“I will never get tired of making you blush, Wench. Though I can’t imagine what thoughts I might have provoked to bring it on.” She let the nickname slide for once, realizing she rather enjoyed seeing his grin. 

“You are doing good work, Jaime. If that is the legacy you leave, you should feel no shame in it. The six Kingdoms and the North will be safer for years to come because of your efforts.” His grin grew wider when she left the title off his name.

“I should have known my ever practical Wench would see the big picture. If that’s what I leave behind, my bones will rest in peace.”

“You have many years and much work ahead of you. Don’t think of your bones resting just yet.” Much to her chagrin, her blush returned as she was reminded of a raunchy joke Tryion once told on the subject of bones and rest. 

“I wish I knew what was making you blush, Ser, but I know you will never tell me.” He was playful in the use of her title.

“You are correct, Ser,” she countered, trying to scowl but nearly laughing instead. She knew it shouldn’t be so easy like this, that she should keep him at arm’s length and not let them fall into their old patterns of banter. She tried to focus instead on the sparring, letting the sounds of blades and grunting fill her ears. Her traitorous thoughts escaped her once more and went to the time she and Jaime fought on the bridge after he stole her blade. She remembered the exhilaration on his face and rushing of her own heart as steel kissed steel. She shook her head, hoping it would dislodge the memory. Jaime looked at her oddly but said nothing. 

Brienne turned her gaze to Reina, who was still sparring eagerly with young Lord Anders. The look of exhilaration on the girl’s face brought a smile to Brienne’s. Suddenly, Anders’s blade struck the back of Reina’s head as she attempted to duck backwards under it and the girl dropped to the ground. Brienne and Jaime were instantly on their feet and ran to Reina’s side. To his credit, Anders looked genuinely horrified.

“I don't know what happened, Ser Jaime! We were practicing dodges, but when she ducked under my blade her timing was off. I didn’t mean to hit her, I swear!” Brienne nodded and waved the boy off so that he wouldn’t get in the way. Jaime knelt next to Reina and carefully examined the injury to her head.

“It looks like the blow knocked her out and cut the back of her head. It doesn’t look too deep but we should try to stop the bleeding and bring her to the Maester.” Brienne nodded and reached under her breastplate to grab the hem of her tunic. She quickly tore off a scrap of fabric and gave it to Jaime to press against the wound. Once he was certain the bleeding was under control, he carefully picked up Reina and let Brienne take over holding the makeshift bandage.

The two of them walked in tandem towards the Maester’s chambers, moving as quickly and carefully as they could. Someone must have sent word ahead, because Grand Maester Samwell came running up to meet them. He ushered them into his chambers and instructed them to lay Reina down on the exam bed and then move out of the way. Brienne could see that Jaime was on edge at having to stand back and placed her hand on his shoulder for a moment. He said nothing, but she could feel him relax slightly.

The Maester bustled around Reina, muttering to himself as he examined the cut on the back of her head. His wife silently brought over a stack of bandages and a tray laden with glass bottles, and he smiled at her gratefully. 

“The cut isn’t too deep, so it won’t need to be stitched. I’m more worried about the knock on the head. She will need to be kept under observation for a few hours to make sure she doesn’t faint again. I’m going to bandage her head and then see if we can wake her up”.

Brienne and Jaime nodded in unison and Samwell got to work cleaning the wound and wrapping the bandage, his wife assisting him. Once the wound was properly dealt with, he unstoppered a small bottle and held it under the girl’s nose. After a few frightening moments, her eyes started to blink and she groaned softly. Brienne felt the knot of tension in her chest ease a bit, but was still keenly on edge.

“There you are, dear,” said Gilly, who placed a hand on Reina’s shoulder to keep her from sitting up too quickly. “You had a nasty knock on the head, but you will be just fine. Do you remember what happened?”

“I was sparring with Anders and practicing the reverse diagonal dodge Ser Jaime taught me yesterday,” she said softly. “I don’t remember anything after that until right now. What happened?”

“I should have been more careful with my favorite pupil and had someone spot you while you practiced that dodge,” said Jaime, sounding pained. “I’m sorry I failed you.” Reina blushed at being called his favorite pupil and Brienne felt an inexplicable pang in her chest. The gentleness in his voice was something she hadn’t heard in a very long time. 

“On the bright side, you’ve received your first battle wound, which is quite the achievement. I believe the occasion calls for extra cake with supper. If Ser Brienne approves, of course.” Brienne rolled her eyes but nodded in agreement and Reina looked elated. 

“She will have to stay here for a few hours to make sure she is fully recovered, Sers,” said the Maester in a tentative voice. “I have other patients to attend to, will one of you be able to stay with her?” 

“I’ll do it,” said Brienne at the exact same time that Jaime said “I’ll stay”. Brienne looked at him, frozen for a brief moment, wondering how to proceed. “We’ll both stay,” she finally said, and he nodded in agreement. 

“What about the other girls and the lads?” he asked. “Someone has to go take over training for the day.Could you find one of your men to go supervise?” He looked at her pleadingly, and she hated herself for taking pity on him. 

“Fine, I’ll go,” she said with a sigh, trying not to relish the look of eagerness and relief on his face. 

Brienne hurried to find a replacement trainer, and ended up pulling a slightly annoyed Podrick away from a conversation with a rather fetching noblewoman. When Brienne raised an eyebrow at him, he responded with a sheepish grin and shrugged his shoulders. As they made their way to the training yard, she reminded him that though the King had done away with the vow of chastity for the kingsguard, his duties took priority over personal entanglements. Once they were at the training yard, Brienne reassured Ella and Tamsyn that Reina was alright and that they would see her at supper. Podrick quickly took charge and had everyone grumbling through running drills as Brienne was leaving.

When Brienne made it back to the Maester’s chambers, she was greeted by the sight of Jaime telling a story to a wide-eyed Reina, who was sitting up in bed and looking a great deal better than before. 

“When I made it back to Haarenhal, I discovered that they had thrown poor Ser Brienne into a bear pit with only a wooden sword. I couldn’t let her get eaten up, so I jumped in and slayed the beast myself.” Reina gasped in horror and delight at Jaime’s fanciful retelling of the past.

“It didn’t happen quite like that,” Brienne interjected, leveling an irritated look at a grinning Jaime.

“The fool jumped in without a weapon and used the threat of forfeiting goodwill from Tywin Lannister to convince them to let us both live. Exactly what have you told her, Jaime? Does she also think you lost your hand while fighting a duel for my honor?”

“He did save your honor though, didn’t he, Ser Brienne?” The girl looked entirely too eager. Brienne hoped Jaime had told her a sanitized version of the story that didn’t go into details about what Locke’s men had tried to do. She relaxed after a concerned glance in his direction revealed a reassuring nod. 

“I suppose he did, though he nearly got me killed later with his promise of sapphires.”

“But he did it to save your honor!” sighed Reina dreamily. “It’s so romantic, I wish something like that would happen to me.” 

Brienne was troubled at where the conversation was going and glared at Jaime. He had the courtesy to look slightly chastened. Reina hadn’t yet reached her eleventh name day and had no marriage prospects or promise of a future beyond what Brienne and Jaime were teaching her. It wouldn’t do to fill her head with dreams of romance when the likelihood of fulfilling them was so meager. Brienne knew all too well where romantic delusions could lead. Her entire life had been scripted by dashed hopes and broken dreams. 

“Believe me, Reina, you don’t want any of what happened to me. It wasn’t all dashing rescues romantic gestures, there was real danger and we were both lucky to make it out alive. ” Brienne tried to change the subject, hoping to distract her from this dangerous train of thought.

“I spoke to Anders and he was very sorry about the accident. I reassured him that you were alright and he looked quite relieved. He seems like a good sparring partner, despite this misstep.” Brienne realized a moment too late that her words had the opposite effect she had intended. Reina blushed and smiled in a way that Brienne recognized with a sinking heart. 

“He’s been quite kind to me,” stammered Reina. “I hope I didn’t frighten him out of ever sparring with me again. Most of the boys say rude things to me when Ser Jaime isn’t around, but Anders always tells them to stop.”

“I’m certain he will be eager to resume where you left off once you are well,” said Jaime, oblivious to Brienne’s concerns. “I will be keeping a closer eye on both of you though. I’ll also let the rest of the lads know exactly what sort of punishment they will face if they talk to you like that again.” 

“Thank you, Ser Jaime,” Reina said shyly while looking down at her hands. 

Brienne glared at Jaime, who looked utterly confused. It made perfect sense that he couldn’t understand how difficult it was for someone like Reina to harbor feelings for someone. She had the same soft heart as Brienne, the kind of heart destined to be broken, while Jaime had been the one breaking hearts his entire life without even realizing it. 

Jaime shook off the glare and launched into the story of how he had given Brienne a suit of armor, a squire named Podrick, and a sword called Oathkeeper to aid in her quest to find the Stark girls. Reina’s eyes were like saucers as she looked back and forth between Brienne and Jaime with an owl-like expression. When Jaime tried to tell of Brienne’s defeat of the hound in single combat, Brienne sighed and took over the story because he kept getting the details wrong.

“Did you really bite off the Hound’s ear, Ser Brienne?”

“Yes, did you, Ser Brienne?” Jaime echoed with a look on his face would have made her want to slap him if it wasn’t so earnest.

“I suppose I did, heat of battle and all that,” she stammered, feeling oddly shy. “I also successfully deployed the move Ser Jaime taught you the other day. The one Lady Tamsyn so deftly demonstrated on Lord Roderick.” Reina giggled at that and Jaime smiled ruefully. 

“I may have created monsters. One of these days, one of them will forget to pull their punches while training and I will be the one doubled over on the ground.”

“I can only hope I’ll be there to witness it.” Jaime raised his eyebrows at the deadpan teasing, perhaps a bit surprised.

Jaime continued telling Reina stories, and Brienne continued interrupting to correct him on the details. Reina looked completely enraptured the whole time, her head injury forgotten. When the Grand Maester finally returned and declared Reina well enough to leave she was bright-eyed and more talkative than normal, which Brienne suspected was due to whatever the maester had given her for the pain. 

Jaime walked with them back to the White Sword tower and bid them farewell with a fond look. Reina looked positively giddy in response. As they made their way up the stairs, she leaned close to whisper in Brienne’s ear. 

“Ser Jaime loves you so much, Ser Brienne.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because of the way he looks at you.” She said, looking at Brienne like she was daft. “And because of everything he told me. How he saved you from Bolton’s men and gave you Oathkeeper. Like a knight and lady from a story, except that you are both knights now, which is even more romantic. He should have married you like in the stories, but I’m glad he didn’t because now you are the Lord Commander and can teach me and Ella and Tamsyn how to fight.” She started running ahead, but paused at the top of the stairs. 

“Those cruel people who called you nasty names were all wrong! Ser Jaime loves you like the noblest of knights and nothing can change that.” 

Brienne wanted to stop this ridiculous line of thinking but could only stare at Reina with a lump in her throat. Reina cheerfully ran ahead, chattering to a worried Ella and Tamsyn about getting extra cake at dinner. All three girls soon started whispering and giggling in excitement, while directing sly looks in Brienne’s direction. 

Brienne couldn’t help but feel like the outsider she had been as a child. Always the subject of the cruel whispers but never the one whispering. She knew the girls meant well and would never purposefully be cruel, but she’d had quite enough of hearing about Ser Jaime’s supposed love for her. The girls would learn soon enough that her story didn’t have a fairytale ending. 

Despite her frustration, she didn’t want to ruin their fun, so she let them continue with their whispers and quietly stalked off to her room to remove her armor in peace.


End file.
